The Waking of Dragons
by TrekwhoviangaterBrowncoat
Summary: Through the eyes of Ser Brynden Tully, Missandei and other characters Daenerys faces off against the Iron Fleet in the Battle of Slavers Bay and must decide what path to take next.
1. Chapter 1 - Ser Brynden Tully

Brynden

The antechamber was well lit, warm sunlight streaming in from a series of narrow windows set in the stone wall. Several wooden benches lined the edges of the chamber, a resting place for supplicant's while they waited for their audience.

Seated upon the benches were men in varying degrees of garb. One carried a large sack and was dressed in the rough spun cloth that marked him as a farmer and another was dressed in embroidered finery so detailed that Ser Brynden had long ago given up on trying to trace the patterns of it with his eyes.

They all sat, save for him. Ser Brynden preferred to stand, his armor and sword standing in stark contrast to foreign clothing around him. It had been months since he had adorned his armor, but when calling on a Queen one must dress for the occasion.

A great wooden door creaked open and a grey clad guardsmen ushered him forwards into the cavernous chamber beyond.

Brynden's mind raced back to dim memories of the Red Keep in King's Landing as he took in his surroundings. Seemingly identical guardsmen lined the walls, all standing stock still with the spears pointed perfectly to the ceiling. Other figures lined the room also, but Brynden's attention was drawn to the centre of the room.

Raised on a dais in the centre of the room a young woman confidently sat an ornate wooden throne, next to which stood the imperious figure of a knight clad all in white.

_I wonder how long it will take you to recognize me, old friend? _

A small young girl, with large golden eyes cleared her voice and Ser Brynden turned his attention to her.

"Honorable supplicant, you find yourself in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, Second of her name: Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Lord of Dragonstone, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of Meereen, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons"

Brynden tilted his head, considering her.

_So this is what a Dragon looks like _he thought to himself, though he made no move to respond.

Daenerys moved on her wooden throne, her hair shifting and reflecting the beaming sunlight of the throne room.

"Welcome to my hall, friend, state what you will"

"If it please Your Grace, I have a titles too"

Daenerys raised her eyebrow.

"Aye, titles are the one thing I do not lack for and as I have no herald allow me to speak them. Before you stands The Warden of the Southern Marshes, The Knight of the Gate, A lord of the River and a Hand of the King. Before you stands Ser Brynden Tully, of Riverrun"

"You certainly have a flair for the dramatic, Ser Brynden Tully of Riverrun. Why have you sought me out?"

"I come at this dark time with counsel, Your Grace. I come bringing news and tidings of your homeland and a plea from those whom dwell within it"

This at least, Ser Brynden noted, elicited more than a raised eyebrow. Daenerys shifted her weight as she considered him, and Ser Barristan looked as if he was ready to leap forward any moment, though whether to embrace him or match blades with him, Ser Brynden could not say.

"You have my attention, My Lord. Say what you would"

"The words I have are for your ears alone Daenerys Stormborn and I will only utter them in private"

That caused a stir among the other occupants of the room, Brynden noted with dry amusement. A small and fleshy man, bald from age stepped forward.

"You will address the Queen of Meereen with the proper respect, Ser" he said in a shrill voice.

"Be still Reznak" Daenerys commanded before turning back to Brynden "I would remind you, Ser, that you are in the presence of a Queen. Be careful with what you say, I would hate for the histories to record those as your last words"

_At least she's got some wit about her,_ Brynden thought to himself.

"I shall remember, Your Grace" he said, putting particular emphasis on the Grace, "However, I must insist on privacy. Yourself and your noble knight, Ser Barristan, whose honor I have never had cause to question, are the only one's I shall speak too"

Daenerys considered him for a moment, her deep purple eyes drilling into him.

"Very well. We shall speak later, Ser. Until then you shall remain here as my guest" she said as she gestured to a young man standing at the far side of the room, a muscled youth with almond skin, curly black hair and a wicked _arakh _hanging from his belt.

"Rakharo, escort our guest to appropriate quarters until I summon him"

"Yes, blood of my blood" the young Dothraki responded.

"Show in the next supplicant" Daenerys Targaryen said as Brynden left the throne room, one step closer to achieving his purpose.

The cool evening air dappled across Ser Brynden's face as he stood on the balcony, gazing out at the sprawling city.

"What in seven hells are you doing here, aye Brynden?" he said, to no one in particular

_What would you say now Hoster? _

You wouldn't think it, he mused, that the city was under siege to look at it. Even at this hour, people were bustling through the streets. Night markets were in full swing in large crowded plazas and young women suggestively lined the more narrow alleys.

The hosts and force of Yunkai may have been camped just outside the city, but the Meerenese were a people who never slept.

He tried to recall what he had been taught about the old Slaver city, during his maester lessons with Hoster all those years ago.

The city had been established as an outlying colony in the early days of the Ghiscari Empire, while the Valyrian's were still tending their flocks. But ultimately, the Dragons had risen up. The Dothraki had plundered the Northern colonies across Essos and the Old Empire had fallen into decay. These cities were all that remained, crumbling at the edge of the world.

Hoster would no doubt have been able to lecture him about all the rulers and wars this ancient city had been through. History had never been Brynden's strong point, he knew how to fight and how to lead.

Perhaps that had what saved him, while so many of his kin had been fallen.

_Hoster. Cat. Robb. Lyssa._

He'd only heard of Lyssa's fate after he'd escaped the Siege of Riverrun. Murdered by some singer, Baelish would have the Seven Kingdoms believe. But Brynden knew better, Baelish had always coveted power and had never been afraid to hurt people to get it.

_I'll be coming for you Petyr. You, Walder Frey, Roose Bolton, The Lannisters. Even the Mountains of the Vale can't protect you from Dragon fire. _

After he'd escaped Riverrun, he had had to evade Ser Jamie and his forces across the entirety of the Riverlands. If Lord Wyman hadn't given him up yet, he supposed they'd still be searching for him.

Ultimately, he'd been able to make his way to The Neck. After spending weeks passing the thrice cursed bog, worrying about Cragnomen and toads the entire duration, he'd finally made his way into the North.

But where to go from there? He'd considered The Last Hearth, or perhaps the Karhold. Arnolf Karstark had declared for Stannis, he'd heard so he supposed they might shelter him while he considered his next move. He'd been moving northwards, in fact when a sortie from White Harbor had picked him up.

He still remembered the quarters they had kept him in, before he had finally been brought before the Lord of White Harbor.

_One conversation with a Fat Lord and here I am, on the other side of the world about the treat with the last of the Dragons. _

Fate was curious like that, he supposed.

From White Harbor, he had been smuggled to Pentos, where Lord Wyman's gold had brought him passage on a ship bound for Volantis. From Volantis to Tolos, and then from Tolos onto Meereen, posing as a common sellsword trailing after one of the many companies, seeking to make some profit from the Great Siege.

A sharp knock at the great wooden door roused Brynden from his thoughts. He turned around to consider it. At least they'd stuck him in a nice room, all heavy stone and intricate rugs.

"Enter" he called out, in his most imperious voice.

The door opened to admit one of the grey clad uniform guards he had noticed earlier.

"Good evening Ser, this one has the honor to be escorting you to the Queen"

His accent was exotic, and Brynden marked him for an inhabitant of those strange and unexplored lands south of The Summer Sea.

"Lead on then" Ser Brynden said as he exited the room.

As they walked the twisting corridors of the Great Pyramid, Brynden couldn't help but notice the large retinue of guards the Dragon princess had posted to him.

_Eight Unsullied for one knight? _

Eventually, they made their way to a small door, next to throne room Brynden had experienced earlier.

"Enter. The Queen is expecting you"

Brynden opened the door and took in the small chamber beyond it.

Spacious, but small with only a wooden table and chairs in the centre. Upon the table rested jugs and fruit and around it sat the two figures Ser Brynden had travelled half the world to treat with.

"Please sit, Ser" Daenerys bade him.

After he had sat, with Daenerys directly opposite him and her White Knight standing directly behind he cleared his throat, though Daenerys beat him to it.

"Ser Barristan has been telling me all about you, Ser"

"I am humbled to have been your chosen topic of conversation, Your Grace"

"Is it true that you slew Maelys Blackfyre in single combat?"

"You noble knight deserves some of the credit, Your Grace. I may have been the one to cross blades with Maelys, but it was your Ser Barristan that broke the lines of the Golden Company"

"Indeed"

Daenerys Stormborn studied him closely, as if a bird considering a mouse.

_Or a Dragon considering a trout, more like._

"Never the less, Ser Barristan tells me you are trustworthy, despite the banners you fought under during the reign of my Father"

Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow at that.

_This one has the fire in her, make no mistake about that. _

"Aye I did fight under the Tully and Stark banners against your Father. I also heard first hand, how your Father burned Rickard Stark alive and strangled his son Brandon, who should have been my nephew"

_Now you've done it Brynden. It would be just like you to travel half way round the world just to get your head stuck on a spike because of something you said._

Daenerys rose, her demeanor suddenly more hostile.

"I can only hope you didn't travel the length of the known world to insult me, Ser"

"Forgive my disrespect Your Grace. I am old, tired and have lost to many of my kin"

Her expression softened somewhat.

"Then why have you sought me out, Ser?"

"Allow me to say so, Your Grace, but you are not your father. I have travelled the length of Essos, evaded Lannisters, Pirates and Krakens to seek you out and offer counsel"

"Then offer it"

"Might I first ask, how current your knowledge of Westrosi events are, Your Grace?"

Now it was Ser Barristan who spoke up, his voice still sounding the same after so many years.

"The last we heard King Joffrey was dead, killed at his own wedding"

"Then you no doubt know of the fate of Robb Stark as well?"

Daenerys spoke up:

"I had a vision of him once, in the House of the Undying. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but after we heard the news I knew"

"Robb Stark was my blood and my King. As was his lady mother, my Cat, who was also a victim of Frey and Bolton treachery"

Daenerys's eyes rose at his use of the word 'King' but she said nothing.

"It is a grievous thing to lose one's kin to treachery and broken oaths. Is that what you travelled all this way to tell, Ser? News already nearly a year old?"

"No, Your Grace. The Seven Kingdoms believe all Ned Starks children to be dead, save for the Lady Sansa, who nobodies seen since Joffrey's death"

"Believe?"

"There are still Starks left, Your Grace. Rickon Stark is alive and by now should have been retrieved and brought to safety"

Daenerys remained still, her deep purple eyes drilling into Brynden's head.

"But the Starks are exiled, the Boltons control rule the North from Winterfell and Frey's, King's Men and Ironborn overrun it"

"You'll forgive me for sounding callous Ser, but exactly what is the point of telling me this?"

"The Northern Houses don't want the Boltons, and the River Lords will never willingly call the Freys or Littlefinger their Lord. They want to rise up, but they have not the strength to do it"

"And you think I can…"

"Give them a banner to march under"

"Ned Stark rose up against my Father, you expect me to ally myself with his bannermen over his son?"

"That is exactly what I propose, Your Grace. Give the Northern Houses their liege lords back and they will fight for you, I swear it"

"And how could you possibly know this?"

_Here comes the big reveal._

"There is a plan, Your Grace. An alliance between the remaining loyal houses of the North, spearheaded by the Manderly's. Though still secret in their existence, they seek to restore the Starks to their rightful place and pull down the Bolton's and the Frey's from their stolen halls"

"Why"

"Because Winter is coming. This one will be the longest and hardest Westeros has seen for many years, and the North needs the Starks"

Ser Barristan spoke up once more:

"This is all well and good, but who exactly is in on this…. Northern Conspiracy?"

"Wyman Manderly seeks retribution on the Freys for the murder of his son. By now he should have Rickon Stark safely hidden away in White Harbor. Besides him, Alysane Mormont has agreed to deliver the strength of Bear Island, Mors and Hothor Umber have sworn the strength of the Last Hearth to your cause in return for the rescue of their nephew from the Twins. Robert Glover will fight for whatever side delivers him his Liege Lord, be it you or Stannis. The only significant force in the North that remains a question is the Karstarks, Robb Stark executed Lord Rickard for treason and the Karstarks have declared for Stannis. Only time will tell if they will return to fight under Stark banners once again"

And what of the River Lords? You mentioned them as well"

"Aye, Your Grace. After the Siege of Riverrun, my nephew Edmure was taken to Casterly Rock as hostage and my brothers late ward Petyr Baelish was raised to Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. But all the surviving River Lords are in agreement. The Pipers, Blackwoods, Mallisters, the lot of them. Restore my nephew to his seat. Help us seek retribution against the Freys for their treachery"

"You ask a lot of me, Ser"

"Aye I do. But what I offer is by far greater: the combined strength of the North and the Riverlands to your cause. Dragons are the only ones we mean to bend the knee too again"

"You have given me much to think on, Ser. But I have duties here. Thousands of my children still live in slavery and I would see them free"

"Begging your pardon Your Grace, but the Seven Kingdoms need you now. The Lord Regent, Ser Kevan, is dead. Cersei Lannister sits the Iron Throne and she will turn Westeros to ruin. Euron Greyjoy seeks to conquer all Seven Kingdoms under Ironborn rule and will content himself with ruling over their ashes if he cannot. You can be Queen of Slavers Bay or you can be Queen of Westeros, Your Grace but you cannot be both"

"You would have me abandon thousands of people to death and servitude?"

Brynden looked her dead in the eye:  
"Yes. You already delayed once and because of that my King is dead. I would not have you wait longer"

"And you think I would be successful?"

"The Seven Kingdoms are in disarray. You have a host of nearly 10,000 Unsullied, the navy of the one of the greatest cities in Slavers Bay, the combined forces of the River Lands and the North at your disposal and three Dragons. I think they'll be calling you Aegon the Conqueror reborn the second you set foot on Westrosi shores"

Daenerys remained still, her deep eyes heavy and ponderous.

"To go North you must journey South" he heard her mutter to herself.

Suddenly she stood up.

"You have given me much to think on Ser, I promise you will have your answer soon. Until then allow me to extend the hospitalities of Meereen, you must be weary after such a long journey"

_I suppose I can't really ask for more._

"Thank you, Your Grace…"

He trailed off as a loud knocking sounded at the door. Daenerys motioned to Ser Barristan to open it. A blue haired man dressed all in yellow burst through the door and knelt at Daenerys's knees.

"My Queen, a mighty fleet has been spotted traveling up the coast, a day's journey and sailing directly for us"

"Have we been able to identify them?"

"No, Your Grace, but their lead ship bears the sail of a mighty Kraken"

Brynden stood up abruptly.

"The Iron Victory, the ship of Victarion Greyjoy. Your Grace, The Iron Fleet is here"


	2. Chapter 2 - Missandei

Missandei

Nothing bred conflict like the desire to be free, it seemed. It saddened her, but in her heart Missandei knew that no matter how hard her Queen fought for the rights of her and people like her, there would always be men who want to enslave others for personal gain.

Though only eleven years of age, Missandei had seen great beauty in her life. She had lived on the sun soaked isles of Naath, surrounded by emerald waters – if only for a time. She had seen cities so old that they might as well have been immortal and she had seen Dragon fire reign down on those who would oppress her.

Compared to all these wonders, what use was slavery, she wondered.

She pondered this as she walked besides her Queen: Daenerys Targaryen, down the battlements of the walls of Meereen.

"You'll need to prepare the city watch and your own troops for the possibility of a siege" she was saying to Grey Worm who walked a respectful few steps behind her. Missandei liked Grey Worm, he reminded her of her sweet brothers, now lost.

"I want you to maintain caches of weapons across the walls, anything that can be used to repel climbers. Ser Brynden has been telling me of Iron Born tactics, apparently they prefer to scale walls as opposed to wait in an elongated siege – though that's not to say we shouldn't prepare for one"

"This One agrees, Your Grace. What you say will be done" Grey Worm solemnly said before walking away.

For nearly a week now, Meereen had been making preparations for the arrival of what the Westrosi stranger called 'The Iron Fleet'.

_We never had need for iron on Naath. _

Daenerys stooped for a moment and turned towards the city, contemplating it. Meereen was a hive of activity now, more so than ever. From the sun baked battlements Missandei could see the Meereneese running to and fro from their shops and houses, the movements like the movements of so many ants.

"Come Missandei, Ser Barristan and the Council await us" Daenerys said as they began walking along the battlements to the entrance that would admit them to the Great Pyramid.

Indeed, Daenerys had asked Ser Barristan to take command of the cities defense, much to the old knights chagrin.

"My place is by your side, Your Grace!" Missandei could remember him saying.

"You have fought and led men into battle more times than any man in this city. When the Iron Born attack, they will attack with a fury the liked of which we have not seen yet in the peoples of Slavers Bay. You know how they fight, I want you to command the defense of my city" Daenerys had said.

After that the matter had been settled, though Missandei still caught the old knight grumbling to himself when he thought no one else was looking. Everyone, ever her friends it seemed, overlooked the tiny scribe.

She liked the old knight though, he had many good stories in him.

Eventually they reached the Great Pyramid and, ascending the great staircase within, reached the Council chambers.

Entering the open door that one of the stationed Brazened Beasts offered her, Daenerys and Missandei entered the heavy and silent room.

The room was cold, despite the warm sunlight filtering in through the stone-set windows. Set into a recess in the middle of the floor sat a large wooden table, around which were strewn cushions and rugs, as opposed to chairs. Missandei had advised that.

"Let them have the small traditions and they will love you all the more, Your Grace" she had said.

Seated around the table were the various members of the Meereneese ruling council. Seated next the head of the table was Ser Barristan, his sparkling white armor only highlighting his clear discomfort at the seating arrangements. To his left sat Skahaz, the commander of the Brazen Beats, looking decidingly more at ease. Opposite him sat Hizdahr zo Loraq, the Queens husband, with a smile on his face that looked anything from sincere. Missandei knew he still resented her and Ser Barristan for his desposing, during the time Daenerys was away with her dragon. Besides them the table was also surrounded by the fat Strong Belwas, the flambountly dressed Tyroshi: Daario Naharis and the newcomer: Ser Brynden.

Daenerys sat down at the head of the table, Ser Barristan and Hizdahr at either side of her. Missandei stood respectfully to the side.

"How goes the preparations for the battle?" Daenerys asked.

"The City Watch is drilling all day Your Grace. The Unsullied, Brazen Beasts and the City guards are all training as hard as they can, we will be ready" Skahaz responded, his voice tinged with pride.

"If the City isn't empty by then, that is" Hizdahr spoke up. He had been decidingly sour of late, Missandei thought.

Daenerys looked at him.

"The people are terrified Your Grace, first the Yunkish blockade, than your Dragons running rampant around the city and now some foreign fleet pressing down on us. People are fleeing the city every day, hundreds are selling themselves into slavery just to get away from the city"

"If they want to go let them, I can't and won't stop them"

Hizdahr looked sullenly at her, as if he wanted to pursue the matter, though he remained silent.

"What of the fleet? Are the ready to sail?"

Ser Barristan spoke up: "The majority of the Meereenese ships are ready to sail Your Grace, what we lack for; however, are the men to man them. Many of the sailors have fled the city and those that remain have no wish to fight. Even in Meereen, sailors know about the savagery of the Iron Born"

Daenerys turned to Skahaz.

"Send your men into the city. Find any sailor unwilling to man a ship and take them to the harbor. Force them if you must, but try not to kill anyone. This is there city and I will make them defend it if I have to"

"But who will command the fleet Your Grace? Surely you cannot mean to do it yourself"

"I do not, though I had someone else in mind"

She turned to Daario.

"Have you any experience in naval combat?"

The blue haired Tyroshi nonchalantly.

"I once led a force of ships against the Navy of Old Ghis. We won, but I would hardly call any victory over those mongrel dogs hard fought"

He smiled, his gold tooth gleaming in the sunlight.

"But I can lead your fleet for you, My Queen"

"Excellent. Ready whatever sailors Skahaz brings to you and borrow whatever men you need from the Unsullied. They've never fought on ships before, but they'll adapt quickly"

"It will be done My Queen" he said, smiling once more.

"You all have much to do, we'll meet again on the morrow. Until then, you're all dismissed" Daenerys said in a commanding tone.

The Council Members began filing out of the room, each off to their respective tasks.

It had a beauty in itself, Missandei thought to herself. So many stones of an unwilling damn, all working together to survive against the onslaught of the seas.

_And the Krakens those seas contain. _

Daenerys rose to leave, but as she was about to walk out the door Ser Brynden stepped in front of her.

"May I have a word, Your Grace?"

Daenerys stared at him for a long hard moment.

"Of course, my knight. Please take a seat"

"If it's all the same I prefer to stand"

"What would you have of me, Ser?"

"I understand that you mean to stay in the city during the battle, overseeing from the Battlements?"

"At Ser Barristan's urgings. An army cannot fight if it's Queen is killed in the first wave. Do you disagree?"

"It's not my place to argue against the urgings of your Queensgaurd, Your Grace. But it would seem to me that your forgetting your greatest resource in this battle, something that could very well mean the difference between victory and defeat"

"Well please tell me, Ser, what is the magical item with which I might save my city?"

"You have three of them Your Grace. Locked up in a pyramid"

Daenerys's face darkened.

"You have seen the aftermath my children wrought on this city, would you have me unleash them again?"

"I would Your Grace. If this is the damage they can do to a city made of stone, imagine what they can do to a fleet made of wood"

"They would turn against my own ships as well, they cannot be controlled"

"They can be a rider"

"I am the only one who can ride a Dragon"

"I never paid much attention to my maester lessons Your Grace, but to me one Dragon would seem a lot better than no Dragons"

"You would have me ride out into battle on the back of a beast that I can barely control? A beast capable of leveling this city to the ground"

"All I know, Your Grace, is what my old Maester was able to force into my head before I fell asleep. When Aegon took Westeros he had the smallest force on the continent. He was outnumbered, outmanned and outflanked at almost every turn yet he never lost a battle. The Field of Fire, Torhen Stark's surrender, every battle that Aegon had a Dragon in he won"

Daenerys paused for a long moment.

"I will think on what you've said Ser. Until then I must rest, the day has been long and I am weary"

"Of course Your Grace" Ser Brynden said as he stepped aside to allow her to exit the Council Chambers.

As they walked towards the Queens chambers, Daenerys stopped suddenly in the torch lit stone corridor. She turned to Missandei.

"What do you think of what Ser Brynden said?"

"What does this one think, Your Grace?"

"You are wise beyond your years Missandei, I value your counsel"

Missandei bit her lip.

_A Naathi slave counseling the most powerful woman in the World, if only the Masters of Astophor could see me know. _

"Your new knight speaks the truth, Your Grace. If you ever wish to take your throne you'll have to fight for it at some point, defeating a Westrosi fleet on the back of a Dragon will send a very clear message to those you wish to overthrow"

Daenerys stroked her check lightly.

"You truly are the wisest of all us, child"

Missandei only nodded, at a loss for words.

"Come now then. We shall go and visit my children"

"Now, Your Grace?"

"Yes now, if what you say is true – that I need to start sending a message – then I should start now. Imagine the fear those Iron Born sailors will feel when they see a Dragon riding above them.

"Should you not inform your Counselors, Your Grace?"

"I'll have a message sent"

And so Daenerys led Missandei on, to treat once more with Dragons.

It was dark inside the bowels of the pyramid. Missandei could feel the coldness of the great masses of stone above her weighing her down. She had never liked the dark, even as a child. She missed the sunlit shores of Naath, bright even in the middle of the night.

Though she had been a small child when the Slavers took her, she still remembered Naath well, the islands of Peace; untouched by conquest since the doom of Valyria. Slaves would come and go, but no force had ever been able to take the island of Naath and live to hold it. Perhaps the Lord of Harmony did exist after, protecting them in his own way.

This dark place only made her long to see the shores of her home once more, to feed the great butterflies from her hands and walk between the Great Waterfalls.

But she would never Daenerys's side. Strange as it sounded, by freeing her Daenerys had forever cursed the Naath girl to stay at her side. She could no more leave Her Queen than she could stop breathing.

She followed Daenerys down the winding stairwell, torch in hand to light up a merger portion of the immense hall.

Eventually they reached the bottom and, hearing sounds of breathing, Missandei knew the Dragons must be near at hand.

_This is where Quentyn died. _

She followed Daenerys further into the cavern and suddenly there they were!

Rearing up out of the darkness monuments to ancient gods of the Freehold, the Dragons lay, terrifying in their enormity.

And they slept.

Missandei tugged at Daenerys's sleeve.

"They are asleep. What will you do now?"

Daenerys turned to her, smiling. She laid her hand on Missandei's shoulder and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Missandei felt her fear drain away, replaced by a sense of calm. As long as she was with her Queen, nothing could harm her.

"They are my children. I'm going to wake them"

Within saying a word Daenerys walked over to the black one – Drogon – and ran her hand down the length of its hide. Slowly rising, the great beast reared its head and looked curiously down upon the two young women. Missandei thought it was about to engulf them in flame, just like Rhaegal had done to poor Quentyn. But no, the mighty Dragon lowered its head and affectionately nuzzled Daenerys.

It made an odd sight, to say the least.

Daenerys beckoned her over and pointed to one of the other dragons.

"They won't hurt you so long as your with me, go ahead. Touch one of them"

Missandei approached the large pale green one.

_Viserion _

Drogon was the only one awake and she laid her hand gently on the sleeping hide of the behemoth.

She held it there for some seconds before withdrawing it, the warmth radiating off the beasts skin.

As she withdrew it she noticed a hush had fallen on the already silent cavern. She looked over to Daenerys who stood, frozen and starting at her with large eyes.

In that instant Missandei knew something was terribly terribly wrong.

Fear creeping up her spine once more, Missandei turned slowly to be confronted with the giant golden eyes of the now woken Dragon.

Everything stood still for a single moment and then chaos broke out. Drogon leapt upwards with a burst of flame, waking Rhaegal who bellowed so that the walls of the cavern shook.

Viserion too, leapt upwards and before Missandei knew what was going on she was above the ground, clutching with tight arms the neck of the mighty beast, the golden hair of her Queen rescinding into darkness.

Viserion's great wings moved strongly as the Dragon scaled the inside of the Great Pyramid. With a smashing of rock and mortar Viserion broke through the top of the Pyramid, allowing sunlight to stream into the darkness and showing mud bricks everywhere.

_They'd only just finished rebuilding the top _she thought to herself, absurdly.

Viserion continued to stream upwards into the pale blue sky, the city growing smaller in size as the beast got higher.

Missandei held on for her life, knowing that even if she moved a finger, her hands would unclasp and she would fall, screaming, to her death.

Eventually Viserion leveled off, gliding through the air, tens of thousands of feet above the ground.

With Viserion flattened, Missandei was able to work herself into a better position along its neck, lying out to grasp with both her legs and hands.

For the first time, Missandei risked a look down. The entirety of Slavers Bay seemed stretched out beneath her.

Meereen was tiny and - risking the movement – Missandei moved her thumb to block it out of vision entirely.

As Viserion glided on high, Missandei gazed out towards the ocean. In the distance she could see a mass of dots, most likely the Iron Fleet on it's way to Meereen. They looked so unimportant from up her, she thought to herself.

_Krakens turned into minnows. _

To the South she could see a distinct dot on the horizon and wondered if it was Yunkai, where the forces that up until recently had been camped outside Meereen had retreated too. She traced the winding path of the Skahazadban river across the brown landscape beneath her and laughed out in exhilaration, despite her fear.

But her laughter turned into a gasp of surprise as images flashed through her mind: three mighty dragons breathing flame and steel against a backdrop of ice, bearing riders: herself, he Queen and another. _The Dragon must have three heads. _The words came unbidden into her mind and she pushed them out, not wanting the fearsome scene in her head.

As Viserion flew through the skies of Slavers Bay, Missandei pushed the images of fire and death out of her mind and quietly contemplated the landscape beneath her, for once not knowing the role she way playing.


End file.
